


Why Dean Doesn't Gamble

by sydkn3e



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cum Play, Dean is a masochist, Dom Castiel, Edging, Grace Kink, M/M, Sub Dean, Wing Kink if you squint, smacking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 12:05:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14790215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sydkn3e/pseuds/sydkn3e
Summary: So Dean has never been the best at gambling, and he mentally makes a note never to challenge Cas to anything ever again. “I bet you can’t make me come untouched” is by far, without a doubt, the most stupid combination of words that has ever left Dean Winchester’s mouth.





	Why Dean Doesn't Gamble

“Jesus, Cas.”

His cock has been standing at attention for what seems like hours now, and as far as Dean can tell through his sex-clouded mind, it may have been that long. The head is red and swollen and literally throbbing, at times actually painful, wet with precome and dripping to the floor.

Dean hasn’t seen Cas for a while now. He’s using some weird combination of grace and invisibility to drive home his point, and damned if it isn’t working.

So Dean has never been the best at gambling, and he mentally makes a note never to challenge Cas to anything ever again.  _“I bet you can’t make me come untouched”_  is by far, without a doubt, the most stupid combination of words that has ever left Dean Winchester’s mouth.

But once Cas started in with his grace, that feeling of power just soaking through his pores and dancing through his veins, rising and falling with each breath and Dean could almost see it, pushing him toward climax, dangling him over that edge only to laugh and pull him back.

Is it cheating that Cas is using his grace? Dean isn’t sure. Nor does he care. Because right now, kneeling with his hands behind his back in the middle of the dungeon, his head down, cock hard and heavy between his legs, the thrill that anyone could walk in on him at any moment… Dean’s living for it. He’s more fucking turned on than he thinks he’s ever been, and really, that’s saying something.

He jumps a little at something soft and invisible trailing down his back, slow and deliberate, outlining the muscles in his shoulders and down his spine, slipping into his crack and he arches, hisses. Just a little lower, just a little more, he’s so unbelievably close, even the smallest…

But no, the sensation disappears. He lets out a ragged breath and collapses into himself, snapping back from the pull of his arch, his chest rising and falling with panted breaths. He’s practically trembling.

God help him.

“Cas, you fucking-“

He cries out as the slap snaps his head sharply to the left, and suddenly Cas is in front of him again, and  _holy fuck_  is he breathtaking and  _what the fuck, Dean, when did you start using words like breathtaking to describe your best friend who occasionally gives you mind-blowing orgasms?_

Cas is maybe a mere inch from his face, so close his hot breath tickles Dean’s lips and all he’d need to do to get a taste is stick his tongue out, but he doesn’t. Instead he trembles and desperately and secretly wishes Cas would hit him again.

“Your mouth is much too pretty to spew such vulgar language, Dean.”

Dean cocks an eyebrow, opens his mouth to speak, but Cas folds his hand over it, hold him steady as he kneels in front of him. His eyes drop to Dean’s cock and  _fuck_  if Cas just  _looking_  at Dean’s cock isn’t the  _hottest fucking thing ever_ …

His cock twitches violently, and he lets out a muffled groan from behind Cas’s hand, his eyes halfway rolling back in his head.

Cas’s eyes flit back up to Dean’s face, and his raises that  _goddamned dom eyebrow_ , his sinful lips halfway parted, his tongue darting out to wet his lips before he speaks.

“Do you enjoy it when I hurt you, Dean?  _Demean_  you?”

Dean swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing under his stubbled neck. Cas moves his hand, giving Dean a nod, permission to speak.

Dean’s breath catches, the beginning of a tearless sob, a rush of excitement. He feels the grace pull him back a little from that edge, letting him teeter, but definitely less forceful than before. So Cas can _feel_  how close he is. Interesting.

“Y-yes.”

Honestly, he’d stop trembling if he fucking could.

Cas bites his bottom lip, and Dean knows him well enough to know he’s not even intentionally trying to be sexy, but  _fuck_. That  _fucking_  angel with his  _fucking_ dark sex hair and his  _fucking_  pink lips and his  _fucking blue eyes._ He never should have made this bet. Subconsciously, he knew he would lose. Perhaps that’s why he made it. Always the glutton for punishment.

Cas hums and stands, cocking his head to the side in that way he does, his eyebrows drawn together. Dean actually sighs a little when he slips his strong hands in his own pockets. He hopes the disappointment isn’t too obvious.

“But that would be cheating, Dean.”

The grace is back, pushing, pushing, _pushing_ …God, just another step and Dean would throw himself off that cliff…

It pulls back again.

He moans loudly, his thighs trembling hard, cock bouncing with the movement. He feels another bead of precome emerge from the head and he whines, on the verge of another sob. All of his muscles are clenching and he won’t admit it, but the position he’s in is starting to get uncomfortable, unforgiving concrete biting into his knees.

“God, Cas, you- fuck!“ Dean pants hard, finally cutting his eyes up at Cas, gritting his teeth so he could speak, “you’ve made your point.”

“Have I?”

He’s so full of shit, and he knows it. Dean glares up at him.

“Yes.”

Cas suppresses a smirk. “So you want me to touch you, Dean?”

“Yes.”

Cas kneels again, his eyebrows drawn together again, this time in interest. “So you denounce yourself in regard to the bet? You believe I can make you come without touching you?”

“Dammit, Cas, y-“

His head snaps the opposite way this time as Cas’s palm connects with Dean’s left cheek, and his cock spasms hard, and again, and again…but nothing comes out. He shakes uncontrollably as he looks down at his engorged cock, his eyes wide.

Cas scoffs and shakes his head. “Dean. That wasn’t me giving you permission, I’m afraid.”

Dean should be embarrassed by the whine that escapes his throat, but Cas stands in front of him again and all he can focus on is the massive tent in the front of his own pants, a couple of dark spots littered there and  _holy fuck,_ Cas is hard just watching him and his monstrous cock is bouncing around in there and pressing precome to the front of his pants and Dean wants to literally lick it up, all of it, wants to flatten his tongue to the front of Cas’s pants and lap at them, taste every little bit…

_Whoa, Dean… that was pretty gay._

Cas doesn’t kneel this time but leans, his hands on his knees.

“Let me be perfectly clear, Dean. We have been in this room for 4 hours, 9 minutes, and 22 seconds. For that amount of time I have kept you here, naked and on the brink of orgasm without even touching you.” He catches Dean’s eyes and holds his gaze. “Know this. I could have caused you to orgasm before we even entered this room.”

Dean gulps, afraid to tear his gaze away.

Cas cocks his brow again. “Oh, yes. I can make you orgasm at any time, in any place, whenever I please. So while you are flexing that embarrassingly underdeveloped vocabulary, or practicing your art of sarcasm, or worse yet, trying your hand at belittlement vis-a-vis my decisions, remember that you belong to me, in every sense of the word.”

Dean lets out a breath, his heart beating painfully. He nods.

Cas stands straight again and Dean’s breath catches as he begins to unbuckle his slacks, pulling the belt out of the hoops with a sharp  _snap_. Dean gulps again, not sure if he’s relieved or disappointed when Cas lets the belt fall to the floor.

He moves on to unbutton and unzip his pants, and  _holy fuck_  there it is. Dean could put both his hands beside each other on that cock and it may barely cover it, and he’s aching for it, practically drooling over it. Cas pushes his slacks down around his thighs as he holds his cock in one hand, and Dean can see the pearly bead just glistening on the end. He licks his lips.

“I’ve always wanted to know what your lips would look like wrapped around me,” Cas says, low and gravely, his shoes shuffling against the concrete as he moved forward. “I think it’s time we find out.”

Dean doesn’t even say anything, he just opens his mouth as wide as he can and dammit if that’s still not wide enough, because when Cas pushes in he can feel his lips stretching around him and  _fuck!_  does his own cock love that, twitching violently between his legs, aching painfully.

He’s coughing and sputtering whenever he does get air in but he doesn’t care because Cas is pushing in and pulling out of him with such concentration, the noises Dean’s pulling from his lips absolutely erotic, and he can’t even complain. Dean is sucking the cock of a fucking  _angel of the Lord_ , and that angel is  _fucking enjoying it_.

Add this one to the scorebooks.

Cas full on starts fucking his mouth, assaulting his throat, his hands on either side of Dean’s face as he thrusts into his mouth over and over. Dean is gasping, making those guttural, throaty noises that all the porn stars make whenever they suck dick, only those guys are maybe half the size of Cas, and Dean’s honestly feeling pretty fucking proud of himself because he’s pushing through and he can tell Cas is starting to lose himself a little bit.

God, his cock is so hard it’s painful, but he can feel Cas’s hold starting to slip a little, and so Dean grabs his hips with his hands and holds on for dear life, pushing Cas’s cock further into his throat of his own accord. His own cock is bobbling wildly between his legs and he just feels like if he can throw Cas off, just a bit more, just a little…

He flattens his tongue and lets it run along that vein, and Cas hisses before he lands another hard smack on Dean’s cheek, the sound echoing off of the bare walls of the dungeon. Between that and the huge cock in his mouth he actually chokes a little, tears springing to his eyes as his cheek begins to sting, and  _God_ …was his cock even  _hard_  before? It couldn’t possibly have been compared to now. Cas lets one hand rest on the back of Dean’s head as the other soothingly rubs his face, the heat leaving slowly.

He barely gets time to recover before Cas lands another hit, this time on the other side, and he cries out around the cock in his mouth, followed by a long, low moan. The tears are falling openly now and he doesn’t care, because this is the most turned on he’s ever been and he needs this, he can’t explain how or why, all he knows is he just  _does_ and Cas  _understands_.

He wants to beg, to say  _“Cas, please_ ” but of course he can’t, so he prays it, prays it as loud as he can as he looks up at Cas with tear-filled eyes as Cas soothes and rubs that side of his face and rubs a finger over Dean’s spit-slicked lips that are wrapped so beautifully around his girth.

Cas groans loudly and pushes himself deeper, rocking in and out at a breakneck pace. At this point Dean can’t even breathe anymore; Cas is actually in too deep for him to draw in air, and he knows Cas is going to oblige him, finally,  _finally_ …

The hold releases at the same time as Cas’s hand makes contact with Dean’s cheek again and he chokes and  _comes_ , arching unbelievably as Cas holds his face in both hands. He can’t look down to watch himself at first but it just keeps  _going_  and finally Cas lets him go and pulls out, and Dean gasps for air as his body is wracked with spasm after spasm. He thinks there’s no possible way he’s actually coming this much, it’s just the pent up energy from the edging. But no, he looks and he’s still steadily shooting streaks of pearly come onto the floor and Cas is watching him like he’s the most beautiful fucking thing on the planet.

“ _Fuck! Cas!”_

Dean’s energy gives out the same time as everything goes black, and he vaguely feels himself falling forward, his hands shooting out to catching himself at what seems like a much-too-slow pace.

He’s not sure how much time has passed but it can’t be long, because when his eyes open again he’s back on his knees which are now screaming with protest, surely bruised by now, and Cas is above him again with his massive hard cock back in his hand. He’s jerking himself and Dean’s eyes widen, watching that beautiful hand clenching around that equally beautiful cock, sliding up and down the shaft and occasionally burying the head before letting it poke back out of his fist, red and leaking.

“Open your mouth, Dean.”

He does, blinking up at Cas, halfway sticking out his tongue, letting it run over his swollen bottom lip.

Cas comes with a choked sound, ropes in Dean’s mouth, coating his cheeks, his hair, a few droplets dripping into his dark eyelashes as Cas watches in absolute awe. If Cas thought Dean looked beautiful with his lips around his cock, he looked exquisite covered in his come.

Dean smacks his lips a little, lets his tongue roam his lips and lap up whatever he could reach of Cas’s seed, the mixture of salty and sweet intoxicating. Cas looks down at him, panting and open-mouthed as Dean smiles up at him and has the nerve to wink, the come in his eyelashes making them stick together.

Cas huffs a laugh and shakes his head, offering his hand for Dean to lick off whatever’s left, which he happily accepts.

Yeah. Dean’s never been the best at gambling.


End file.
